* * * *
Jack walked Kaylin down to her car in the parking garage. He wouldn’t have felt comfortable letting her go down by herself after what had happened to Lucy. He didn’t know if he would ever get over Lucy’s murder. It haunted him, and that was one of the reasons he’d allowed BSO to run an undercover op in the club. Lucy had been a friendly girl who liked everyone. She had probably been a little naïve, but she had only been twenty-two. He didn’t know how her parents were going to cope with the loss of their only daughter and in such an ugly, needless way. When he closed his eyes he still saw the picture Kaylin had showed him of her tossed in a Dumpster with her bloody hair plastered to her head.
When Jack and Kaylin stepped out of his express elevator at the level four parking area, he felt a tingle of nerves skitter up his spine. He didn’t know if it was because of his maudlin thoughts of Lucy or because someone was actually watching them. There were probably twenty cars parked on level four. He looked around carefully but didn’t see anything or anyone out of the ordinary. Jack pulled Kaylin into his arms for a good-night kiss. “Be careful. Lock your doors and look around carefully before you get out of the car at your house. Do you have a garage?”
Kaylin hit the unlock button on her key fob. “No, no garage, but I’ll be careful. Good night, Jack.” She gave him a tight hug before she dropped down into the car seat. He watched as her SUV drove down the tight spiral driveway and moved out of sight before he returned to the elevator. He took another quick look around before he palmed the steel plate and closed the elevator doors. He still had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.
* * * *
The black car cruised slowly past the cop’s house in Rio Vista. He had seen her at the garage with the big, blond detective who looked more like a surfer. He knew it wasn’t smart to hang around the crime scene, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. He wanted to see that crumpled body covered with blood one more time. He knew that cops sometimes videoed crime scenes. He knew he was taking a chance, so he stayed in the background with the other gawkers and slipped off to his car on level three after they removed the body.
He watched as the cop got out of her SUV, walked up to the front door, and went in. The lights inside came on, and he saw her walk toward the back of the house. He’d give a lot to be inside her head, see if they had figured anything out yet, if they knew about the women in Pompano. He probably should not have done the Evans bitch so close to his own playground. That had been purely impulse and anger when she had cheerily blown him and his offer of a drink off. Well, it was too late to change that now.
* * * *
On Friday morning, Kaylin answered the phone on her desk at BSO. Chloe Carlton was on the line. “How’s it going, Kaylin? Are you still on that undercover op at the JDB Building? I want all the dirty deets. How about lunch?”
“It will have to be a quick one. Is CheeBurger CheeBurger on Las Olas okay?”
“Great. See you there at noon.”
When Kaylin arrived Chloe was already seated at an outside table. She stood up and they exchanged cheek kisses and quick hugs. “Spill it, girlfriend. How is your op going? How do you like BDSM, and is Jack Brown as fabulous as he looks?”
“You are a nosy wench, Chloe. I don’t know about the BDSM, but Jack is even more fabulous than he looks. We haven’t gotten any leads so far, but I have to say I’ve had a freaky feeling that someone was watching me over there.”
“Kaylin, be careful. You don’t have any idea what you might be dealing with. The murder might have been an isolated incident, or it might have been part of something bigger. There have been two other murders of young women in Pompano. Their bodies were found in Dumpsters not too far from fetish clubs. Both were prostitutes, but that may or may not be a factor. I know your victim was not in that life, but you never know.”
“I’m being careful. Jack walks me down to the garage, and Del is in the club as backup and a second pair of eyes while I’m there.”
“I bet the delicious Delaney Lord is just lovin’ life right now. Naked women everywhere.”
“Uhh…you would be wrong there. He is not at all happy with this entire thing. He doesn’t like the op, and he particularly took exception to me spending the night with Jack Brown at his penthouse apartment.”
“No! You have to be kidding me. I don’t know which one of you is the fast mover, but that is fast, girl. Be careful. I don’t know anything bad about him, but the whole club thing…I don’t know.”
“You’re the one who was in a BDSM relationship for six months, Chlo. Don’t look at me that way. I’m wearing your sub wear every night.”
“I know, but it wasn’t with Jack Dalton Brown at The Black Iris Club. I’ve only recently heard rumors about it. Is it as fabulous as they say?”
“Well, I don’t know what they say, but it sure is fabulous—not that I would know, not being an expert on BDSM clubs. We made love on the rooftop terrace of his apartment last night, and I have to say it was like nothing I have ever experienced.”
“Has he…you know…in the dungeon?”
“No. He made me come—on the chains the first night and on the St. Andrew’s cross the second night, but the actual sex has been private. He said it wouldn’t look right if we didn’t engage in some kinky stuff in the dungeon. I have seen one or two couples actually doing the deed in there. I don’t think I could do that. I’d have to be so far out of it that I didn’t realize other people were there. I really don’t think that’s for me.”
“Well, I’m glad he is at least keeping that private. What about Brown’s alibi? I’m sure you’ve checked that out carefully, right?”
“He’s clear. That building has video surveillance, palm plates, and swipe cards all the heck over the place. He made the surveillance records available to us without a warrant immediately, and they were independently verified by the security company. He didn’t leave the penthouse floor all night. Also, he was with a woman. They both came down to the crime scene in the morning when security notified him that BSO cruisers were in the garage and something was going on. Let me tell you how not happy he was about that.”
“Well, that’s something. Just be careful. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“You and Del.”
* * * *
When Kaylin got back to BSO she gave Del the information that Chloe had shared about the murders of two other women in Pompano.
“I’ll call and get copies of the files. We’ll see if there are any similarities in method. We have no forensics so that will be a bust.”
After they had reviewed the two Pompano files Del said, “It seems a little farfetched to me. Two prostitutes and a twenty-something receptionist. It doesn’t jive. The victimology is too different. The only thing they seem to have in common is that they were all young women, they didn’t even look alike. Unfortunately the results from the tests on the DNA collected from the Pompano victims is not back yet. There was no DNA on Lucy Evans.”
“It does seem like a stretch, but we should keep an eye open for any other cases that might have a bearing on ours.”
“There’s not much forensic evidence, no trace except the DNA. It’s hard to know if it means anything since the victims were prostitutes. There could be DNA unrelated to the murders.”
“So, are you still pissed at me?”
“I’m not pissed. Not really pissed. I just don’t think you are using your head here, Kaylin.”
“Del, I didn’t stay over last night. I am trying to keep a little professional distance.”
“Kay, that ship has sailed. Too late. You can’t possibly be impartial now. It’s up to me to do that.”
“Really, Del? And are you impartial? Or are you jealous?”
“Regardless, Kay. I’m not sleeping with the dude. He’s a suspect.”
“He is not a suspect. This is my private life, and regardless of what you may think, I am entitled to one.”
The atmosphere remained strained for
the rest of the afternoon. Finally at six o’clock Kaylin said, “I’ll see you at the club at eight.”
“Do you think you could wear some ‘grannie panties’ tonight to give me a break?”
“Duh. No. See you later.”
* * * *
Yeah, Del thought. See you later. All of you. This was harder than he had thought it would be. Not only did he think Kaylin was making a mistake getting involved with this Brown guy, but she might well be putting herself in the crosshairs of a serial killer. There was no evidence to connect the cases, but something didn’t feel right—his gut feeling again. He had to admit that her jealous jibe had hit its target. He’d had some kind of feelings for Kaylin for a long time. He had never explored them because it wasn’t smart for partners to get involved. That could lead to mistakes being made—possibly fatal mistakes.
Chapter Seven
Kaylin Gallagher’s bungalow in the Rio Vista section of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Friday night, July 18, 2014, 6:15 p.m.
Kaylin stretched out on her bed. She just needed a few minutes to close her eyes and decompress before she started to get ready for the night at the club. The tension in the office all day had been draining. She really hated to be at odds with Del, but she couldn’t let him roll right over her all the time. They were partners. He wasn’t her dad.
She found she was strangely anxious to see Jack again and play out whatever scene he came up with tonight. She had been amazed that Jack had been able to engage her to such an extent that she basically forgot she was almost naked in front of strangers on both nights. His Dominant aura surrounded them in a haze that seemed to close out prying eyes. She had been surprised to notice that she had missed seeing him that morning and wished she had gone against her better judgment and stayed overnight. What the heck was that about? Was she starting to really like Jack? Or maybe it was more than that. Sure, he was gorgeous. He was sexy. He was definitely Dominant. He was interesting, rich, and available, had a slightly dangerous edge and a great body. One thing she had not expected was that he would have a sweet and caring side. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable with what he did to her and always put her first. He was concerned about and interested in his employees. Oh, she could go on and on about the fascinations of Jack Dalton Brown. But for her own peace of mind, she didn’t think she should.
She also hadn’t expected that she would like the BDSM action at all. She thought she was just doing it for the operation. However, she was finding it very compelling, not to mention that the sex was off the charts. She didn’t know if she could be a sub for the long-term, and Jack seemed to be deeply entrenched in the lifestyle. It was puzzling. What would happen when the operation was over and she had no excuse to see him?
Her cell phone rang. She reached over to her bedside table and picked it up. The display said, “Gabby calling.” Gabby indeed. That girl had earned that name. She was definitely a chatterbox. She was probably on her way home and wanted an ear to vent her crazy day.
Gabriella Delaveccia was an Assistant State’s Attorney for Broward County. She was beautiful—a typical warm, sexy Italian-American with thick, wavy almost-black hair, a warm Tuscan complexion, great body, and killer, thick eyelashes that surrounded big, dark brown eyes. She usually tried to hide all that wonderfulness under a barrel, especially in court. She dressed conservatively, wore her glorious hair swept up into a neat chignon or bun, and perched granny glasses on her nose. She wore little jewelry except a beautiful Italian cameo that had belonged to her great-grandmother.
Gabby really tried not to catch the attention of the bad guys, but that was a hopeless cause. It was spooky the way their eyes followed her in court. She was good at her job and had a very high conviction rate. It would have been higher if not for her dick of a boss who tried to scoop the best cases for himself. If it was high profile, he had his nose in there, preferably for any photo opportunity with the local press. Kaylin realized that State’s Attorney, Miguel Juan Carlos Gatto-Alba, was an elected official and had to make sure he would get reelected. Still, he was a pain in the ass to one of her best friends. Kaylin had observed him on many occasions—both in court and around town. She had a sneaking suspicion he had the major hots for Gabby.
“Hey, Gabby. What’s up? Are you on your way home?”
“Yeah. I’m on Federal just passing Broward. Actually, you could say I’m parked on Federal. The traffic is bumper-to-bumper. What’s up with you? Chloe told me about your undercover op at The Black Iris Club—in confidence of course. I won’t mention it to anyone. How is that going?”
“I’ve been in there two nights now. I’m getting ready to get dressed and go over again tonight. We have nothing yet except for some uncomfortable creepy-crawlies up my spine. It felt like someone was watching me.”
“Really? No clothes, cuffed to whatever. Who would be watching? How does Del feel about this operation?”
“It’s really not that bad. To be honest, Del hates the whole deal. He doesn’t like Jack Brown and thinks I’m in danger. I think he’s just being Del.”
“This is me you’re talking to, girl. I know exactly how bad it can get. Please be careful. I can see Del’s point. Do you have any bad vibes about Jack Brown? I don’t know much about him except what I’ve read in the press. His record is squeaky clean.”
“No. We cleared Jack of any involvement first thing. His alibi is about as solid as an alibi can get. He has cooperated fully in letting us run this undercover op out of the club. Which is saying a lot since the place redefines the term ‘confidentiality’ and is covered by a blanket of surveillance.”
“Ah, the traffic is starting to move. Keep me in the loop, Kay, and let me know if there is anything I can do to help. We both know that if this comes down to a prosecution, Miguel will swoop in and take it over. It will be too high profile for him to resist. I’ll be sitting second chair if I’m there at all.”
“I figured that, the dick. I’ll talk to you over the weekend.”
* * * *
Jack was having a quiet scotch on the rocks and the one cigar he allowed himself each day out on the rooftop terrace. His gaze was absently tracking the stream of cars down on Broward Boulevard twenty floors below. The poor suckers were just sitting there caught in evening traffic. His mind was elsewhere—on Kaylin Gallagher. What was it about Kaylin that continued to fascinate him even after he’d had her repeatedly? Was it that she was pretty in her slightly quirky Irish way? Was it that she came like a house on fire? Was it that she had a great ass? He had to grin at that one. Was it that she had been able to flip him and take the top? Granted, she had taken him by surprise, but still that was impressive. What the fuck was it? He didn’t think she was ever going be a true submissive. He would always have to fight to top her. Ha! And he wasn’t guaranteed a win. Maybe that was it after all. Maybe he was tired of the easy wins his looks and wealth, not to mention The Black Iris Club, brought him. Easy was just too easy. He didn’t know if he would be able to sustain a relationship with her after the undercover op in the club was over. She might just walk at that point. How would he feel about that? He didn’t think he’d like it—not at all. He didn’t know how he actually felt about Kaylin—deep down—but he knew he wanted to find out. He needed to find out. She was different.
He hoped the operation was wrapped up by the end of next week, or he would have to reschedule his trip to New York. The family would not be happy about that. He had made commitments. He had faithfully promised his cousin, Barbara Brown, that he would participate in her charity bachelor auction. When he’d made the promise, he hadn’t been seeing anyone seriously. He still wasn’t, was he? Anyway, it was just one date, one night. Sex didn’t necessarily have to be on the table. Who could object to that?
* * * *
When Kaylin pulled into a parking spot near Jack’s express elevator on the fourth level, he was just stepping out into the parking garage. He walked over, opened her door, and helped her out. “I thought we’d go downstairs to Morrison
’s for a couple of steaks before we get started upstairs. I’d like to buy you dinner. We haven’t had a chance to go on a date or anything.”
“Jack, this is an undercover operation, not a dating opportunity.”
“It’s more than that, Kaylin, and you know it. Or you should know it by now. Let’s go. I have a table reserved for eight o’clock.”
“Don’t we have to be upstairs by then?”
“No. I don’t keep regular hours up there. I don’t punch a time clock. People would be suspicious if I didn’t take time to wine and dine a beautiful woman. We can’t have that, now can we?”
“Hmm. I guess not. A steak does sound good.”
Once they were seated in the very opulent first floor steakhouse, a Fort Lauderdale institution, Jack had ordered their predinner cocktails, and they had glanced at the menu, he said, “So, how do you think the operation is going? I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary except the feeling that we’re being watched.”
“You feel that, too? I’ve had the creepiest feeling that someone’s eyes are on me. Like touching me. Ick.”
“Well, you are a newbie to the lifestyle and might feel that you were under a microscope, but I shouldn’t feel that way in my own club. So, I think there might be something to that. Let’s not ignore the feeling. If either of us gets it, we should take a moment to look around. How about a safe word for that? Like maybe the color purple?”
“Good idea. We shouldn’t stop to say ‘I think someone is watching us.’ That might blow our cover and give the guy a heads-up.”
Kaylin's Pursuit [The Black Iris Club 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 7
